


Drifting

by waitforsunrise



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst without a happy ending, Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, I hope I achieved that, I was trying to go for a certain tone when writing this, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Post-Prank, Sad Ending, Self-Harm, Sirius Black Needs a Hug, Sirius Black-centric, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, The Prank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:33:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22037872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitforsunrise/pseuds/waitforsunrise
Summary: Sirius Black’s social and emotional life post prank and how he copes (that is to say, not at all). About as depressing as you’d think.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 14
Kudos: 182





	1. The Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Please read tags for TWs. If you'd rather not read the suicide attempt, skip chapter 3. Take care of yourself.

These days Sirius’s bed is left untouched. In the mornings his sheets are still tucked in and his bed neatly made. He spends his late nights drifting through empty hallways and wandering the school grounds, watching the moon phase reflections in the lake water. He spends his early hours in the astronomy tower losing count of smoked cigarettes while watching the sunrise. The cold bites his skin in new ways as it’s raised in constant goosebumps and he curls his leather jacket around himself for warmth.

At mealtimes with the Marauders, Sirius doesn’t talk while the others make stiff conversation. It is very obvious an elephant is in the room and that the elephant is Sirius. When he does look up from mindlessly pushing food around on his plate, he is met with a sharp glare from Remus, a stern look from James, and a pitying gaze from Peter. He immediately shrinks back in on himself and goes back to poking his food. He quickly learns to skip mealtimes altogether and steals away some fruit from the kitchens for when he needs to eat. 

To those awake in the dorm, Sirius can be heard rustling in the first light of the morning. He gathers up daily school materials while taking clothing out of his dresser and gets ready somewhere else. He unexpectedly finds that he has an abundant amount of free time and doesn’t know what to do with it. He spends most of it studying in the library corner, wandering the school grounds, or smoking more cigarettes in an effort to fill the empty void in his chest. 

As Sirius smokes the last cigarette in his pack, legs dangling over the edge off the astronomy tower, he ponders just how important his existence is to the universe and to those around him. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and contemplates the smoking end. He concludes that it’s not very much. He presses the burning end of the cig against the inside of his wrist. He intakes a sharp breath but revels in the pain. He knows he deserves it.

Sirius barely sleeps these days, eyes bloodshot and bags dark. The sleep he does get takes place between his classes in the library corner. Madam Pince takes notice and, feeling sorry for the poor boy, leaves a warm blanket in his spot. More often than not, he finds himself sleeping through lunches and dinners from sheer fatigue. 

His frame has gotten frailer too, his translucent skin seemingly stretching over his fragile bones. He bruises easier as well and returns from quidditch practice with blues, greens, and blacks, splayed across his skin. His collar bones are more prominent and his skin is thin and dry. One day, his hollow cheeks paired with sunken eyes startle James so much that he is the first to forgive him, followed by Peter soon after. James spends the next two weeks trying desperately to convince Remus to forgive him as well. James has never seen Sirius in a worse state, even after he was kicked out, and is terrified he will somehow turn into a ghost and disappear. 

Even though Sirius knows he doesn’t deserve to, he misses Remus. He misses the comfort of Remus’s warm skin against his after a night terror. He misses tracing his fingers along unique constellations of freckles and scars that Remus insists aren’t worthy of praise. He misses Remus’s low, soothing tone while he explains potions in a way that actually makes sense. He misses chaste kisses and holding hands between classes. He misses the cackle of his laugh and the upturn of his lips and the crinkle of his eyes. 

Merlin, Sirius just missed seeing him happy. He hasn’t seen Remus smile since…  _ the incident _ . It’s Sirius’s fault. He took that joy away from him, revealed his deepest secret to their enemy, and almost made Remus a murderer in the process. He nearly screwed over Remus’s entire life because he’s impulsive and reckless and stubborn just like his family told him. He’s destructive and visceral, drawing people in just to hurt them in the end. He knows what he’s done is unforgivable and he doesn’t expect forgiveness. He just hopes Remus can find happiness once more.


	2. The Others

Everyone else knows that something is amiss within the Marauders. The distinct lack of their pranking, shouting, and shenanigans is palpable. The air in the Gryffindor common room now feels mundane and stale instead of crackling with lively energy. The sounds in their classrooms are now filled with the studious scratching of quills against parchment instead of boisterous laughter while origami notes fly through the air as a teacher yells “Detention!”

Sirius and James were self-proclaimed brothers, closer than blood, and always ready to take on the world with a mischievous glint in their eyes. Now, to the bewilderment of others, Sirius and James are never seen in the same room, if they can help it. It’s bizarre seeing Sirius walk around Hogwarts without his other half, James nowhere near to be found.

Lily has tried multiple times to confront all four Marauders on what had possibly gone so wrong. However, the way their faces had gone pale and backs had gone rigid while they promptly switched the subject ran chills down her spine. Their non-answer left her even more confused and puzzling over possible reasons in her imagination. 

McGonagall thought she would be eternally grateful the day James’s and Sirius’s grades improved and she stopped having to hand out detentions, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. During her lectures, Sirius avoids all eye contact while taking notes and is the first to rush out when class ends. The others aren’t quite themselves either, their conversations lacking and smiles rare. One day, she decides to hold Sirius back after class to check up on him. Up close, she takes in his thinning, messy hair and the way his robes seem to swallow up his smaller frame. Her eyes scrunch up in concern as she places her question in the air. He brushes it off, dismissing it as something or other. After more unsuccessful questioning, she eventually lets him go. She is more worried than ever. 

No one knows the reason for their partition but they fear it will never be the same.


	3. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has major character death by suicide so please be warned.

It’s 5 AM and the sun paints light pinks across the horizon from the astronomy tower. Sirius watches with drooping eyes and a cigarette hanging out of his cracked lips. Exhaustion feels heavy, dragging his entire face and body down. His mind feels slow and fuzzy with sadness creeping in on the edges. Removing the cigarette from his mouth, he lifts a half-finished bottle of firewhisky to his lips in a futile effort to chase it away. 

He quickly contemplates giving in to the sleep teasing at him but he knows it’s pointless. He will still wake with an all-consuming, stubborn, tiredness in his chest, that just won’t go away, that feels exactly like he imagines a black hole would. He will still wake to a world where the days blur together and everything feels hollow. He will still wake up in a world where both his blood and chosen family have rejected him, where he has lost both brothers, and it is all his fault. He does not want to wake up from another nightmare, guilt clogging his throat, unable to breathe because  _ he is the one _ who betrayed the trust of the boy he loved the most. He does not want to wake up anymore. 

All he knows is the suffocating, inescapable tightness of his skin and his ever-increasing desire to claw his way out of it. He has tried many times and hidden under his clothing are hasty, desperate attempts at freedom. Red, raised nail marks run ragged across his back and torso. On his forearms, his nails have broken skin, leaving behind only dried blood—no relief. Disappointment and the familiar fatigue settle heavy in his chest. There will be no escape from himself. 

He staggers to his feet, stray hand knocking over the now finished bottle of firewhisky, oblivious as the last remnants drain out. He stumbles over to the lookout point and wastes no time clambering over the railing. He shuffles around, facing away from the tower, lax grip on the railing behind him. 

Lips curving up, he revels in the feeling of control he has as his heels balance, unsteadily on the edge of the concrete. He slowly releases his hands from the railing as he takes a moment to bask in the warmth of the sun and appreciate the feeling of loose clothing rippling in the wind. He pitches his heels forward and falls into the rising sun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope I didn't cause too many tears. Kudos, comments, and any feedback is appreciated!


End file.
